


At the House

by MyOwnSuperintendent



Series: Welcome [3]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Gen, Season/Series 11 Speculation, The X-Files Revival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 03:15:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13137915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyOwnSuperintendent/pseuds/MyOwnSuperintendent
Summary: Some months after the events of "Conversations," Mulder, Scully, Emily, and William return to the unremarkable house and continue to build their relationships.  Sequel to "Welcome" and "Conversations."





	At the House

**Author's Note:**

> Also based on Season 11 casting rumors.
> 
> I don't own The X-Files or anything related to it. Hope you enjoy!

They’ve all settled into their seats on the airplane; they managed to get four of them together, in a middle section.  Neither Emily nor William can remember flying before (“although I guess we must have,” Emily said, and William nodded, after a moment).  But they’re headed across the country now, Wyoming to Washington, going to the place that might be some kind of home for all of them.

Of course, Mulder knows it’s not as simple as that.  They can’t expect the kids to feel at home in the house right away, just because it’s where he and Scully happen to live, and anyway it’s not as though either of them is going to be there full time.  Emily’s only coming for a week, just for a visit, before she goes back to her own apartment; William will be there longer and more frequently, enough that they’re moving most of his stuff, but he’ll be heading to college at the end of the summer.  This is what they’ve got: two children who aren’t children anymore and a lot of lost years and experiences they can’t ever entirely make up.

Still, it’s a hell of a lot better than it seemed even a few months ago.  He and Scully have been out in Wyoming since October, more or less uninvited guests in the Van de Kamp house, trying to build some kind of relationship with their children.  They’ve put everything they have into it, going on leave from work; when they were deciding what to do, Scully reminded him of what he said to her eighteen years ago in Oregon, when she was pregnant with William but they didn’t know it yet, about personal costs and needing an end, and he nodded, worried this had already cost them much too much.  William wouldn’t talk to them at all, at first, and things were slow going at best; Mulder sat through the most uncomfortable Thanksgiving dinner of his life out there, and he’s the veteran of some pretty terrible ones.  Now that they’ve started talking, there have been some painful moments (long conversations, with accusations and tears) and some joyous ones (he’s seen his son play baseball now, moving like he was born to it).  Mostly, there’s still an uncertainty, the sense that William’s figuring out who they are to him and how much he can trust them.  It still feels like a victory that he’s even coming home with them; there were times when Mulder worried that as soon as he turned eighteen, he was going to tell them he wanted them out of his life.

Emily’s figuring things out too—she talks about it with Scully more than she does with him, but he knows—but they know where they stand with her, at least.  She may not be moving into their house, but she’s not going anywhere.  She calls Scully Mom now, and him Mulder, affectionately, which seems fair.  William calls them both by their names, but right now they’re just happy to be called something.

“Are you two all set?” Scully asks, leaning over to the kids.

“Ready for your first flight?” Mulder adds.  In moments like these, he sometimes worries that they hover too much, that they’re trying to parent for a situation that’s years in the past.

Emily and William don’t seem to mind, though.  “All set,” Emily says cheerfully.

“Yeah,” William says.  “What is this for the two of you?  How many flights, I mean?”

“Oh, God,” Scully says.  “I wouldn’t know how to begin counting.”

“Come on,” Mulder says.  “Let’s try.”  Scully rolls her eyes but joins in when he starts counting up cases—she even gets a little notebook out of her purse so they can keep a tally.  They’re somewhere in the hundreds by the time they decide to call it a day, but before that happens, they’ve taken off.  He watches the kids’ faces when they do; their eyes widen and they clutch at the arms of their seats and in that moment they look so alike, and he sees Scully in both of them.  There are wonders in this.

 

They arrive in Washington mid-afternoon and drive out to the house.  “Oh, it’s so nice!” Emily exclaims when they get there.  “So much space.” 

“Thank you,” Scully says.  “We hope you’ll both like it.” 

They gather the suitcases between them and move inside.  He and Scully have been back and forth some (only in turns, because they want William to know that they’re not about to leave), in the last couple of months, getting things ready.  Rooms that he’d once made a storage space for extra papers have been cleared out, turned back into bedrooms.  One will be William’s; they’ve left the décor pretty basic for now—just the furniture—so that he can make it his own.  The other is for guests, which means Emily, right now and probably most of the time.  They show the kids upstairs to the rooms; William takes a look at his and then says, “This is great.  Thanks,” and Mulder feels like he’s been holding his breath for months and can just now let it out.

Dagoo is happy to see them, or to see Scully at least, jumping into her lap and licking her face (Skinner agreed to watch him while they were away, which Mulder considers exceedingly foolish on his part).  “Hey there!” Scully says.  “Did you miss us?  We missed you.”

“Speak for yourself,” Mulder says.

Scully shoots him a look and scratches behind Dagoo’s ears.  “Don’t you pay attention to him,” she says. 

Emily has settled onto the couch next to Scully.  “Can I pet him?” she asks.

“Of course,” Scully says. 

Pretty soon, Emily has Dagoo on her lap, and she’s quietly cooing, “You’re so cute, you’re so cute,” at him as she pets him, and he’s licking her hand enthusiastically.  He clearly already likes her a lot more than he’s ever liked Mulder.

“So what do the two of you want to do this week?” he asks the kids.

“I’d really like to see some museums,” Emily says.  “And just around the city.  I’ve never been in this big a city before.”

William nods.  “Yeah,” he says.  “And can we see where the two of you work?”

Mulder exchanges a look with Scully—he wasn’t expecting this.  “Sure,” he says.  “You mean the building?  Our office?”

“Yeah, your office,” William says.  “If they’d let us in.” 

“We can get you in,” Mulder says.  “It shouldn’t be too hard.”  And even if it were, he’s sure they could find a way—he’s never followed all the regulations, and he doesn’t see why he should start now.  “We’ll do that sometime this week.”

William nods again.  “Thanks,” he says.  He doesn’t elaborate on why he wants to go.  Mulder doesn’t ask.

“It’s getting late,” Scully says.  “Are you two hungry?”

Everyone agrees that dinner would be a good idea, and they all head into the kitchen.  There’s not a lot—they’ll have to go grocery shopping tomorrow—but Scully stocked up on basics the last time she was out here, and they make spaghetti.  They show the kids where they keep different things, so they’ll know.  “We want this to be your home too,” Scully says, her voice quiet.  “So you should feel free to take what you need.”

“Just let us know if you can’t find something,” Mulder adds, and Emily and William both nod.  He thinks he should feel happy, grateful.  It’s not that simple.  They’re all pretty quiet around the table.  Some of it’s just because they’re tired, he thinks, and some of it’s because they’re here now.

“I think I’ll go to bed early,” Emily says after they eat.  “Long day.” 

“Yeah,” William says.  “Me too, I think.”

“That’s fine,” Scully says.  “You’ll let us know if you need anything, won’t you?”

“Of course,” Emily says.  “Good night, Mom.  Good night, Mulder.”  She hugs them both quickly and then smiles as she heads upstairs.

William hugs them too, with a quiet “Good night;” Mulder always wishes these moments could be longer, that he could somehow deliver eighteen years’ worth of hugs in an evening, if he tried hard enough.

 

The two of them go to bed pretty early too, that first night.  Mulder lies in bed, watching through the open bathroom door as Scully finishes washing her face.  She turns off the bathroom light and comes back into their bedroom.  “Come here,” he says, patting her side of the bed; it’s been a long time, now, since the two of them were here together.  She smiles at him and climbs in, turning off the bedside lamp and settling against him.  He slides an arm over her waist, waiting until his eyes adjust to the darkness and he can see her face before he speaks.  “What’re you thinking?”

She’s quiet for a moment.  “I think it’ll be good.  I really do.  Once we all settle in.”

“Yeah,” he says.  “I think you’re right.”

“I was worried, you know,” she says, “that William wouldn’t like being here.  But he seems to like the place, I think.  Do you think so?”  It’s hard to say it right out, but they both feel the same way: they don’t always know what William’s thinking, not as well as they’d like.

“I do,” he says.  “I think he liked his room.  Maybe we shouldn’t worry…It’s not like he was afraid to tell us when he was upset.  Before.”

“That’s true,” Scully says.  “It’s just…it feels different, being back here.  Having them here.  Do you know what I mean?”

Mulder nods.  “When we were showing them the kitchen,” he says, “I kept thinking, you know, what if we didn’t have to do this?  What if they already knew where everything was?  It’s like…it feels like they’re guests.  And they shouldn’t be guests.  They’re our kids.” 

“I know,” Scully says.  “I know how you’re feeling.  But however it feels, they still are our kids, Mulder.”  She’s always firm on that point, always ready to convince both of them that they can still do this, that this is their chance and that guilt won’t solve anything now.  “It’s different.  No, they’re not children anymore, and it’s not going to be like we raised them.  We’re not going to have that, even if we both wish we could.”  He sees her bite at her lip and squeezes her closer.  “But we’re going to have something.  We really are.”

He kisses her quickly.  “You’re right, Scully.  I shouldn’t complain.”

“Hey, it’s just me,” she says.  “You can complain here if you want to.”  She waves an arm, her gesture taking in the room.  “We’re home now.”

“Yeah,” he says.  “Think we’ll finally settle down?”  All these years, and so few of them spent still and grounded together: years travelling for cases and years on the run, involuntary separations that they worried might become permanent, that time when she’d left, these past months feeling their way in Wyoming.  They bought this place to be a home; it would be nice if it could stay that way.

“We’d better,” she says, her voice a little grim, and he chuckles and kisses her again.

“How about Emily?” he asks.  “You think she likes it here?”  Sometimes it’s hard to tell with Emily too; there’s more to her than the easy smiles and accommodating words that are the first things she presents. 

“I do, yeah,” Scully says.  “God, I’m going to miss her, Mulder.  I already did, you know, when I was here at the beginning of the month.  And that was just for a few days.  And now we’re going to be all the way on opposite sides of the country.” 

“I’ll miss her too,” he says.  “But we’ll visit.  And she’ll visit.  And we can talk on the phone.”  He wants to comfort her, but he doesn’t know how much good it’ll do; neither of them is very good at being away from people they love.  And he knows that they’re both thinking about the end of the summer, too, when William will be gone as well, when it’ll be just the two of them again.  They never get to do this for very long.

“I know,” Scully says.  “It won’t be the same, though.  But I guess…let’s just try to enjoy the week.”

“We can do that,” he says, and he kisses her once more and then once more, pulling her against him in the darkness.

 

They head into the city the next morning.  Emily wants to go to the American Art Museum, so they go there first.  Mulder realizes, as they’re walking around, how little time he and Scully have spent exploring their own city.  They never do these things, visit the sights and museums—if they’re not working, then they’re usually at home, just the two of them.  It’s easy to lose sight of things like this. 

They wind up going to the zoo, after lunch, and he’s worried at first that it will feel hollow.  You’re supposed to take your kids to the zoo when they’re in elementary school, or even younger, and you’re supposed to buy them snacks and hold their hands walking around, and they’re supposed to cry when they see the bears, or something.  Somehow he doesn’t think either Emily or William is going to cry at the sight of bears.  But Emily does watch the pandas for a long time, proclaiming them the sweetest things she’s ever seen, and William laughs when they’re in the small animal house, watching one squirrel steal a walnut from another and the original owner stare around as if he hasn’t the faintest idea where it’s gone.  Mulder holds Scully’s hand walking around, now, but he still buys the kids snacks.

They go to their office towards the end of the day.  They see a few people they’re on nodding terms with in the halls, but no one to stop to speak to; since they’ve been back, they haven’t had the same notoriety, for better or for worse.  Mulder leads the way to the elevator and presses the button for the basement.  “We’re here,” Scully announces when the doors open, and there’s something so proud in her voice, and it’s another thing he loves her for.

“This is it,” he says, unlocking the door.

And here it is, their space, a little dusty from the time away, a little cramped from the reorganization.  (He walked in one morning, after they’d been back for about six months, and found her lining up pencils across a new desk.  “If we’re going to do this together, I need space to work,” she said, and he kissed her across the desk, and if they decide to share workplace stories with the kids he’s going to leave the rest of that one out.)  But it’s still what it’s always been in the ways that matter, with the poster and the clippings and the photographs and the cabinets full of their work.  The space they’ve protected and fought for.  He wants William and Emily to like it, even as he thinks that they probably have a right not to, that maybe it stands for all the reasons they couldn’t be a family before.  He still doesn’t know why William asked to see it.  It’s not much if you don’t know.

“It’s very nice,” Emily says.  William’s quieter, looking around the room.  “Oh, is that the two of you?” she asks, pointing to a picture that’s clipped up on the wall.  It’s an old one, from the second year they worked together, he thinks.  So long before any of this.

“Yeah, that’s us,” he says.  “Back in the day.”

“Wow,” Emily says softly.  She glances over at Scully and then goes back to staring at the picture, and it’s not until she touches her own hair, winding a strand around her finger as she continues to look, that he works out what she’s seeing.  Scully wasn’t that much older than Emily when she started on the X-Files; the resemblance, still striking now, is even more pronounced.  “Will, you have to see this,” she adds, and William goes over to stand beside her and look.  He, too, glances back at them.  He looks more like Scully, Mulder thinks, but maybe that’s just because that part is easier for him to grasp; he still feels almost confused when he notices the ways his son resembles him, still thinks of that word _miracle_ and wonders how such a thing could come to be.

“So this is where you’ve always worked?” William asks.

“Mostly,” Scully says.  “There were times when we were moved around, assigned to different things, but this is the main place.  It’s where we got started—where we met, actually.  Where we are now.”

“We’re out in the field a lot too,” Mulder adds.  “This is home base, though.”  More of a home than anywhere else, sometimes.  Something else the kids could probably resent.

William nods.  “It’s good,” he says after a time.  Mulder’s not sure what he means by that, and judging by her face, Scully isn’t either.  But they nod.

 

Emily’s already in the kitchen when Mulder comes down one morning, scrambling more eggs than she could possibly eat by herself.  “You don’t have to cook for all of us, you know,” he says.

She jumps.  “Oh!  It’s okay.  Unless you don’t want…”  She gestures towards the skillet.

“I’m not complaining about the food,” he says.  “I’m just saying, you don’t have to feel responsible.  What happened to your ‘guests don’t have to do the cooking’ thing?”

Emily shrugs.  “I don’t know.  I just felt like making something.”

She looks a little flustered, which wasn’t his intention.  “Hey, it’s all right,” he says.  “Forget I said anything.  Just know you don’t have to do this unless you want.”

“I do want,” she says, and she smiles, but there’s still something jittery in her movements as she pushes the eggs around with the spatula.  When she turns off the heat and brings a plate of eggs to the table, he takes a plate of his own and decides to give this another try.

“Something wrong?” he asks.

“No,” she says, and then, after a pause, “Not really.  It’s just weird, I guess.  It’s the first week—here, I mean—but then it’s the last week…”

“Yeah,” he says.  “I know.  Your mom and I are really going to miss you.”

He thought that might help, but it doesn’t seem to.  She just frowns, sounding almost distracted when she says, “I’ll miss you too.”  She takes a bite of egg.  “I haven’t, you know, spent a lot of time away from Will,” she says quietly.  “I mean, when I was in college, yeah.  But even then, I wasn’t that far.  And after…I used to go home a lot.”  She’s certainly spent a lot of time at home in the past months, coming to the Van de Kamp house at least once a week and usually more, as sure a part of their newly forming family as anyone.  “So it’s a little hard.”

“Of course,” he says.  “I know you’ll miss him too.”

“Well, it’s not so much for me,” Emily says.  “More for Will, really.”  She takes another bite.

It almost gives Mulder a sinking feeling: that Emily doesn’t think William is going to be all right without her, that she sees this fragile thing they’ve constructed collapsing when her support is pulled out.  For half a second he thinks she’s right, that they won’t be able to go on without her, without her mediating words and her kind smiles and her suggestions for ways to spend time and her carefully cooked meals.  But he knows he can’t think that way.  It’s not fair to any of them.  Especially not to Emily.

“Hey,” he says gently, so that she looks up.  “I know you worry about him.  I’d be lying if I said I didn’t too.  And no, things aren’t perfect yet.  But we’re okay now.  Really we are.”  He sees her swallow hard.  “Of course we’re all going to miss you.  But we’ll see you again soon, at Thanksgiving.  And everything’s going to be fine then.” 

She blinks.  “You think?”

“Yeah,” he says.  “Can’t be worse than last year, anyway.”

That makes her almost laugh.  “Oh gosh.  That was so…that was awful.”

“I know,” he says.  “It was completely awful.  But it’s not like that now, is it?”  And when she shakes her head, he says, “So, you see, things are looking up.  Just try and have a good time this week, okay?  Let me and your mom worry, if someone’s got to.”

“Okay,” she says, nodding.  “Sorry about all these eggs.  I was just trying…”

“I know,” he says.  “You don’t have to apologize.  Like I said, I’m not complaining.  You’re the best cook here, hands down.”

This time she really does laugh.  “Is that the real reason you’re going to miss me?”

“One of many, Emily,” he says.  He raises a forkful of egg in a salute, and she grins and keeps eating.

 

They have some old board games in a box in the living room—Mulder no longer knows if they were originally his or Scully’s or if they were here when they bought the house—and one night the four of them play Clue.  Scully soon leaves the rest of them in the dust, racking up the wins.  “How did you get so good at this?” Emily asks.

“It’s because she’s in law enforcement,” William says, grinning.

“Well, so is Mulder,” Emily says, “and he’s no better at this than the rest of us.” 

“Probably all the autopsies,” Mulder says.  “Makes it easier for her to figure out the weapon.”  He’s almost holding his breath, because these kinds of moments are still rare; they can talk together, spend time together, even enjoy themselves, but they don’t often have this kind of ease, slinging jokes and comments back and forth and not worrying about what might come of it.  But the moment holds, now.  William looks at him and laughs, and then he rolls the die.

“It doesn’t have anything to do with that,” Scully says.  “Look, this isn’t a game of chance.  There’s strategy involved.  If you keep track of what people have already guessed…”  She goes into an explanation of proper Clue guessing strategy.  William makes a face halfway behind his cards, and Emily starts giggling behind hers, and Mulder starts to laugh too.

Scully tells them they’re all clearly not interested in making the game more exciting, which just sets them off again.  She tries to glare at them for a moment, then puts down her cards and laughs with them.

 

By the end of the week, they barely feel settled, and it’s already time for Emily to leave.  She’s finishing her packing upstairs, and Scully is helping her; it’s something she’s gotten very good at over the years.

Mulder finds William in the living room.  “We thought we’d all go to the airport to drop Emily off,” he tells him.  “Does that sound good to you?”

“Yeah,” William says.  “Definitely.  I want to say goodbye.”

Mulder nods.  “Of course,” he says.  He decides not to point out that they’ll see Emily again sooner rather than later.  He feels like he’s already said that to everyone—Scully, Emily, himself—and it hasn’t changed how any of them feel.  “Anything special you want to do with the rest of the summer?” he says instead.

“Not really,” William says.  “Just rest, I think.  Before school starts.”

“That makes sense,” Mulder says.  “You’ve earned it.  You worked really hard this year.”  He graduated second in his class; Mulder wonders if any of William’s intelligence and drive came from him and Scully or if that would be trying to take credit for something they really had no part in.

“And I’d like to maybe talk more,” William says, and Mulder definitely wasn’t expecting that one.  “Maybe about all the stuff you guys have done.”

“There’s definitely a lot of that to talk about,” Mulder says.  “And your mom and I would be happy to.”  He’s taken to tentatively trying that wording out, in the last few weeks; so far, it’s mostly gotten a neutral response.  “Is that why you wanted to see our office?”

“Sort of,” William says.  “I think…I just want to understand more.  About both of you.”  He plucks at the fringe of the blanket on the couch.  “Look, it’s not that I don’t believe you.  When you say you love me and you’re not leaving again.  I believe you guys about that.”  He lets out a deep breath, and Mulder does too.  “But I just want to know more about before.  Before you had me, I mean, and when I was a baby.  So I can understand better.”  He’s looking at Mulder now, and there’s bravery in his face, and Mulder still doesn’t know exactly how much of him they can take credit for but he’s got to believe there’s some Scully in that.

“Of course,” he says.  “I think that’s…that’s really good, William.  It’s always good, trying to understand things.  Hard, but good.”  He knows he’s rambling and makes himself shut up.

“Thanks,” William says.  They sit there quietly for a minute or two, until Emily and Scully come downstairs.

 


End file.
